


Trouble

by purple_ramblings



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, Eleanor and Vane on/off, F/M, Kid Fic, Mention of loss of limb, Modern AU, Tags to be updated as story progresses, flinthamiltons, flinthamiltons to the rescue, ladies of Black Sails banding together, mention/discussion of abortion, misogynistic language, physical violence, pirates and a baby, plenty of alcohol (away from the baby), polyamorous side pairings, rape threat (ch 5), single mother, there’s some fighting in there, they all go soft af for the baby, vane punches silver (amongst other combos)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27961898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_ramblings/pseuds/purple_ramblings
Summary: Emily is a single mother to adorable one-year-old Lucia, scraping by to make ends meet but aided by a whole bunch of kindhearted people who also excel in the areas of scowling and chugging rum. Like her neighbor James whose frown could make anyone scramble to get away but who also lets Lucia drool all over him and eat his ginger hair whilst he regales her with tales of the seas. Or her brother who will also let his niece snack on his hair while making sure no one dares to cross her mother. (Cross her ~again~, the guy who did disappeared before he could wring his neck. Confidential tips appreciated.)And then there’s the guy that she knew was trouble when he walked in.Or in short: scowling, hardass pirates who go soft af for the baby (and her mother)
Relationships: Eleanor Guthrie/Charles Vane (side), Jack Rackham/Anne Bonny/Max (side), John Silver/Original Female Character(s), Miranda Barlow/James Flint/Thomas Hamilton (side)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hi,  
> this is a new story in a new fandom and it's exciting but also nerve-wracking!  
> Trying my spin on it and hoping it works :)  
> Thank you very much to queer-crusader who very kindly welcomed me into the fandom and listened to my ramblings about this story. thank you for encouraging me so this one's for you!

x x x

“Oh dear.” Miranda rushed up the staircase towards the young woman, carefully avoiding all of the fruit and vegetables and other grocery items that had spilled from the burst plastic bag the young woman was still clutching the remains of.

She was also clutching a screaming baby, and a ringing phone.

“Here, I’ll take the baby,” Miranda said kindly, reaching for the upset toddler. She’d caught a glimpse of the caller ID which explained the frazzled look on the younger woman’s face, the caller’s name ended with the tag _boss_.

“James,” Miranda said, carefully setting the child on her hip and turning to the man she had entered the building with, but she needn’t have. He had already started to gather the spilled shopping by his own accord. He nodded at Miranda who then took the still unhappy baby up the rest of the staircase and went down the corridor, gently bouncing the baby and speaking to it in soothing tones so that its mother could talk to her boss in peace.

“And who might you be? You’ve got a good set of lungs on you, don’t you, huh? What’s got you so upset, darling?” Miranda singsonged to the child, walking up and down a few steps. She noticed the child kept sticking its fingers into its mouth and that there was a lot of saliva.

James came after her then, going to their door. He met Miranda’s questioning look and shook his head lightly. The phone call hadn’t sounded good, from what he had been able to gather.

“Getting a new bag,” he told her, unlocking the door.

“Can you get me that dried heel of the bread from the counter? I think this one is teething,” she asked him, sighing softly at the seemingly inconsolable child.

“Maybe you should sing to the baby,” he suggested with the slightest hint of a smirk which widened at the glare she shot him.

He disappeared inside, coming back with the piece of dried bread and an extra paper bag. Miranda gave him a quick smile and a nod as she took the bread from him and offered it to the child, praying there were no allergies to worry about. The dried bread got shoved into the baby’s mouth rather unceremoniously and Miranda chuckled at that. Within moments it was much quieter in the corridor although tears still clung to the wide, blue eyes.

James returned from gathering the shopping into the paper bag and shook his head again at Miranda’s look. “Still talking,” he told her and put the bag down by the young woman’s door.

Carefully he approached the two of them and Miranda could tell from his expression that he was unsure of how to proceed. The toddler was now calmer but still making pitiful sounds every few moments and was  peering at them from large, clear blue eyes with a look that applied to their paternal and maternal instincts respectively which had never come to fruition.

Their eyes met when they heard a loud curse from the stairwell, and then nothing.  Moments passed and it became clear that the child’s mother wasn’t coming yet.

“Maybe you should check on her,” James suggested, eyebrows pulling into a slight frown.

“I’ve just settled the baby,” Miranda protested.

“I’m not good at that kinda shit, talking and all,” he growled lowly, frown deepening. The glance they exchanged made clear whom they thought better equipped to handle this situation, but he wasn’t there.

“So you’ll take the baby while I go check on her?” Miranda gave him an incredulous look that turned into astonishment when he reached out and took the child from her, cradling her against his broad chest with surprising gentleness and aptitude. For a moment they both held their breaths whether the child would accept yet another stranger holding them but the toddler just gave a deep, almost comical sigh and continued to chew the bread.

Miranda ignored the smug grin James shot her when she went back to the stairs to check on the mother. “Go inside and sit down or something,” she told him, waving him off.

The young woman was sitting on the stairs right where Miranda and James had found her, fiddling with her phone, the screen dark. Her body language told Miranda plenty before she even got to see the woman’s face. Her long hair, much straighter and lighter in color than the child’s dark brown, unruly curls, was falling into her face when Miranda sat down next to her but couldn’t fully conceal the tears, even less the look of defeat on her face.

“James has your…” The child’s clothes hadn’t made any blatant reference to its gender and you obviously couldn’t tell from just looking at the child.

“Daughter,” the young woman filled in slowly. “Lucia. Her name is Lucia. I…” She pressed her lips together and made to get up.

“She’s alright for the moment, I gave her the dried heel of a bread to chew on. I hope that’s alright.”

The young woman looked surprised, then thankful and a little sheepish too. “Thank you. She’s been teething again for two days and…” She gave a deep sigh, rubbing her face tiredly. “I had no one to leave her with so I had to take her with me to the shops. Thought I’d make it back before she started up again. Didn’t want another bag to carry alongside her and the backpack so I overfilled it. Just my luck that she’d start screaming again just when it burst and my boss… well, ex-boss now, called,” she summarized the moment of glory in her day.

Miranda grimaced. “I’m sorry to hear.”

She nodded lightly. “I’m Emily.”

“Miranda. The grumpy ginger is James. We live on the same floor as you.”

“We just moved in last weekend,” Emily explained slowly and shook her head. “Thought it was going well with the job so I took the plunge moving out of my brother’s place. I love him but I also want to strangle him at least three times a day.”

“I have no siblings but I’m familiar with the urge,” Miranda shared freely and with a deceivingly sweet smile that made Emily chuckle and grin, a bit.

“Now I’ve got nothing ’cause I wouldn’t fuck the boss’ son and he talked shit about me,” Emily tacked on wryly and released another deep sigh.

Miranda opened her mouth, then frowned and closed it.

“Yep. That.” Emily nodded and stood slowly. “I’m gonna have to call my brother, I guess…” She sounded less than excited at the prospect, who could blame her.

Miranda followed suit. “First we’ll get you a good, hot cup of tea,” she decided and made her way back up the stairs.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll be fine, honestly. I’ll just pick up Lucia and-”

“Since James hasn’t come running with a screaming baby yet, I’m almost inclined to believe they’re just fine,” Miranda interrupted with some amusement showing. “Come on, we’ll have a cuppa and you can still call your brother afterwards. Ten minutes won’t make much of a difference, will they?”

Emily shook her head slowly. “I guess not…”

Miranda smiled winningly and led her to James’ flat.

They found the tea already on in the kitchen but most of all they found James in the kitchen, preparing the tea with one hand while still cradling Lucia with the other arm and talking to her.

They made a comical, and entirely endearing sight. The broad, tall man with the red hair gathered at the back of his head who usually wore an expression and demeanor warning others off from approaching, much less crossing him unless they had a death wish, chatting to the cute-as-a-button toddler held in the crook of one of his strong arms with her little, curly head leaning on his shoulder.

Emily had seen him once or twice already and from afar he’d seemed like someone she might better steer clear of. But the way he was holding her daughter and talking to her in a low, soft tone, listening to the little girl’s indistinct babbling, told her he had to be something of alright. Even tall, broad, crabby men were not immune to the charms of the baby, she’d seen it happen many times.

“Well, wonders do happen,” Miranda commented with an almost gleeful grin and James looked up, startled. Immediately the scowl returned to his face but he was still holding the baby just as carefully. “I’ve just offered Emily a good cup of tea before she takes Lucia back to her place.”

James nodded curtly and made to pass Lucia back to her mother but Emily held up a hand.

“She seems fine for now. If that’s okay with you.” Now that Lucia was calm, she wasn’t keen to dislodge her again and risk another episode. Never rouse a sleeping bear, and all that.

James looked down to the little girl on his shoulder and gave a shrug of sorts with the other. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Strong tea?” Emily asked back. “Both then,” she said when he nodded.

Miranda took the tea tray so James could keep Lucia. He didn’t seemed at all inclined to give her up now, sitting down with her on one of the couches and letting her inspect his hands, her tiny fingers running over his rings.

“Like a fish to water,” Miranda commented, still with that hint of glee but mostly just with a whole lot of fondness.

James shot her a short glare and wriggled one of his rings off his finger for Lucia to have.

“Don’t, she’ll just-” Emily tried to warn him but Lucia was too quick and so the ring went into her mouth, the bread momentarily abandoned in its favor. “Don’t chew on that, Lu,” she sighed, reaching over to take the jewelry from the little girl who was not too happy about it. “Sorry.” She gave James an apologetic look, his ring now covered in saliva and half chewed bread.

“’s not the worst its been covered in,” he told her simply and gestured for her to drop it on a napkin Miranda had produced.

Emily arched an eyebrow at that, what could be worse than saliva and half chewed bread?, but he didn’t elaborate. She hadn’t really expected him to.

“Good tea,” she said instead, taking another sip. It was quite strong but really hit the spot after that phone call. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the next sip.

“Miranda’s special blend,” James revealed and carefully protected his own cup from the little grabby hands of the human shaped octopus on his lap.

For a few moments they sipped their teas in silence, only Lucia’s babbling noises filling the air. She turned on James’ lap and tried to scale his torso, reaching for his face, especially his beard.

“I think she likes the ginger,” Emily noted with a small smile.

“I think the ginger likes her back,” Miranda replied in a stage whisper.

James kindly ignored both of them, put down his cup and steadied Lucia with a hand on her little back and one under her diaper bum. Her patting examination of his face was fairly uncoordinated and Emily barely held back from intervening.

“Don’t, she’ll just… pull on it,” she told him after Lucia had taken interest in a strand of red hair that had fallen out of his do and he’d enabled it by pulling out the hair tie. As the reddish strands fell around his face, Lucia grabbed a fist full and… _pulled_. James grimaced and eased the little hand off carefully.

“And put it in her mouth…” Emily sighed and shook her head. James didn’t seem much bothered by Lucia trying to eat his hair though. When she pulled on it again, he untangled her hand and sat her on his lap again, facing the other way. Lucia heaved a sigh and leaned back against his belly instead of starting to whine or cry, as Emily had expected.

“You’re not by any chance interested in a babysitting job?” she asked, mostly as a joke but as a young, single mother there was always a part seriousness to such comments. Finding people whom the babies got along with was always a difficult task.

James barked out a laugh that startled Lucia into crying and he looked almost as upset as Lucia when Emily scooped the toddler up to console her.

“We’ll be glad to have her for a bit if you have an errand to run,” Miranda offered for them, still regarding the whole situation with her fond amusement.

James didn’t agree. He also didn’t disagree. He did, however, watch very attentively how Lucia finally settled, snuggling into her mother’s shoulder.

“Thanks.” Emily was quite sure she was not going to make good on that offer, not just because Miranda had offered and not James himself. “For the tea and for helping out.”

“No bother, Emily. Glad to help out when we can,” Miranda insisted and stood, understanding the sign that Emily intended to leave.

Emily gave her a smile and got up herself, situating Lucia on her hip and grabbing her backpack with the other hand. “Let me know when I can return the favor.”

“Will do,” Miranda promised, herself with little intention to make good on it. She walked the two to the front door and gave Lucia a warm smile. “Bye, Lucia.”

“Bye bye,” Emily said for Lucia, waving her little hand.

The door closed behind them and Miranda turned to James who was avoiding her gaze. She was not deterred by it, not at all, smirking at him.

“If I’d known it just took a little baby to turn you soft…” She teased him still with that fondness on her face and in her voice and that was the only reason he allowed it.

“Gonna find that ultrasonic cleaner,” he grumbled, stalking off.

“I thought it’d been covered in worse?” she called after him and shook her head to herself. Even after so much time, she still learned new things about him. “Wait ’til Thomas hears about this,” she muttered to herself and started cleaning up the tea tray.

x x x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note on Lucia (the name): I prefer the pronunciation loo-SEE-ə for it (rather than the other English-centric LOO-shə) as I first heard the name in connection with the celebration of Saint Lucia in Sweden. There are different pronunciations from different areas and languages of the world too. Basically to me she is loo-SEE-ə but feel free to pronounce it however you like. Actually, I’d be really interested to hear how you pronounce it in your preference/language/origin, let me know in the comments! (pronunciations taken from https://www.behindthename.com/name/lucia)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm so happy the story is off to a good start, thank you for the lovely comments again!  
> In this one both the brother and another well loved character make an appearance. Did you have any guesses as to who the brother was? I'd love to hear!  
> Hope you enjoy :)

x x x

It was a few days later that Emily found herself desperate enough to make good on Miranda’s offer even though she hadn’t intended to. She’d passed her once on the way down when Miranda was coming up and Emily was going down with Lucia to go for a walk. They’d smiled and nodded at each other, and that was it. But now...

It was just that another tooth had started coming just as the first one had been through, and she’d been trying to look for a new job, and her brother hadn’t been too courteous with his ‘I told you so’s in regards to her moving out of his place, and she couldn’t remember when she had last showered, and she was out of dry shampoo, and her brother was coming over later and she was a mess, the flat was a mess, everything was a mess, and-

Then she remembered Miranda’s offer and desperate times called for desperate measures, and all that, so finally Emily had swallowed her pride, scooped up Lucia who refused to be left alone even the few minutes it took her mother to shower, and went knocking on her neighbors’ door.

It was James who opened the door and he knew immediately what Emily wanted before she had even opened her mouth. She looked even more frazzled and harried than she had had on the stairs, dark circles under her eyes, hair in a state, an apologetic but also desperate look in her eyes.

“Good morning,” she said slowly. “I hope I didn’t wake you…”

“Early riser,” James answered shortly.

Emily nodded, then hesitated. “Is Miranda there?”

He shook his head and watched her face fall. “Weekend trip.”

“Oh, alright. Well, uh, I’ll just…” She turned to leave.

“I can try, if you think she’ll go for it,” he told her before she could. “Watch her, I mean. That’s what you’re asking, right?”

She pressed her lips together for a moment but nodded. “It’s just so I can take a quick shower. You’d only need to sit with her for like… two minutes but I can’t leave her unsupervised right now, she’s started cruising on the furniture and climbing things, and I haven’t gotten everything baby-proofed for a toddler yet...”

“I think we can manage a few minutes while you shower,” he assured her. “I can come to yours if that’ll make her more comfortable?” he tacked on as an afterthought. His own home was probably even less baby-safe than Emily’s.

“Are you sure?” Emily looked doubtful and James almost sighed. He couldn’t stand people hemming and hawing but he could tell he needed to go a little easier on her. Also, it would probably up his chances at getting to hold the baby again, there was that too. And he could almost hear two particular voices in his ear telling him to be a little nicer to people, especially ones asking for help.

“Sure.” James reached over and grabbed his keys, closing the door behind himself. His book could wait for half an hour.

Emily’s flat looked exactly like a flat looked like when a toddler lived in it, colorful toys everywhere. The remnants of breakfast were still on the table in the open style kitchen and living area and a drying rack with a variety of clothes on it in the corner.

“Sorry for the mess,” she said quickly, setting Lucia down. The little girl dropped to her hands and knees and crawled off to her toys quickly. “Uhm, would you like some tea?”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to-”

“I put the kettle on literally before I came to ask,” Emily told him and got out two mugs, dumping tea bags into them and dousing them with the hot water. All while keeping a careful eye on her daughter on the floor. “Milk, sugar?” She set his mug on a clear spot on the table.

James shook his head.

“I’ll just be through there. Shout if you need me but I’ll be quick.” She had a quick glance around but then nodded to herself.

“We’ll be fine,” he assured her which she nodded at again and disappeared down the short corridor in her flat. “We will be fine, won’t we, Lucia?” he asked the toddler who was sitting up and clanking wooden blocks together.

The first few minutes they were fine but then a few things happened in quick succession of each other.

Lucia had pulled herself up on the sofa to cruise along the furniture and had lost her balance, falling over before James could intervene which startled her and she began to cry.

Emily had finished her shower in record time but hadn’t thought to bring her change of clothes into the bathroom with her so came out of the bathroom wrapped in a huge towel and one around her wet hair.

And the front door opened to another tall, broad, crabby seeming man who took a quick look around to assess the situation and scowled immediately.

“Flint,” he snarled, face darkening as he marched over to snatch his niece out of the other man’s arms. “What are you doing here? Em, what’s going on?” He held the child to his chest protectively, glaring at James who quickly got to his feet.

“You’re early,” Emily stated instead of answering and if her brother hadn’t still been glaring daggers at him, James would have been quite intrigued by the defiant glint in her eyes as she met her brother’s dark stare evenly.

“Emily.” His growl was in stark contrast to the gentle care with which he hitched his niece up his side. “What is Flint doing in your flat while you’re in a towel? _Only_ a towel.”

Emily rolled her eyes, evidently completely unimpressed by her brother’s insinuation as she adjusted the hold of the towel at her chest. “ _James_ is my neighbor and he was watching Lu  so I had two minutes to myself to take a shower, Charles.”

Charles carefully untangled Lucia’s grabby fingers from his long hair as he seized up James with another dark look. The ginger haired man met the stare just as evenly as Emily had, wagging his eyebrows in confirmation of her words.

“I told you I’d come early so you could get some stuff done,” Charles grumbled, standing down, his stance marginally relaxing. He still eyed the other man suspiciously though.

“And when was that going to be? Two seconds before we had to leave?” She rolled her eyes at him again. “You two know each other?” she asked with sly interest then and now James could see it. They had the same eyes, shared the cunning smirk which she wore as she looked from one to the other.

“Flint works for Eleanor at the warehouse,” Charles explained after a moment when it was clear that James wouldn’t.

Emily tilted her head to the side in contemplation and then that smirk came out fully. “ _You_ ’re the cranky warehouse manager she keeps complaining about,” she realized with glee and now James was the one scowling which in turn made Charles smirk as well. “Well, I think between the two of you, you’ll have Lu covered so I’m going to get dressed now,” she singsonged then, turned on her heels and disappeared behind the bedroom door.

The two men regarded each other suspiciously for a few moments until Lucia made a louder noise since her uncle wasn’t reacting to her babbling as he usually did. With Charles’ attention now on her, she beamed and wriggled until he let her down on the floor.

“Why was she crying?” He never took his eyes off his niece, crawling off again to the sofa and pulling herself up on it, giving a wide berth as he stepped around James to be within reach of the little explorer.

“Fell on her bum but she was mostly just startled, she didn’t bang her head or anything,” James answered, asking himself why he was explaining himself to the other man but also eager to make it clear that Lucia hadn’t hurt herself while on his watch.

Charles let out a grunt as his only acknowledgment and offered Lucia his fingers to hold on to when she got to the end of the sofa and ran out of stuff to hold on to. She took hold of his fingers and attempted a wobbly step, aided by her uncle taking her other tiny hand as well and pulling her up a little straighter. She made a sound of delight and stumbled a few steps towards James before her knees buckled underneath her and she went down again. This time she didn’t cry though, just crawled off towards a toy she had just spied.

Emily came back then, looking much fresher than fifteen minutes before. She was patting her hair with the towel and eyed the scene for a moment before she went to the counter where she’d attempted to make tea.

“Guess these are a little over-steeped now,” she sighed and poured the liquid into the sink before discarding the teabags.

“When do you ever not over-steep tea?” Charles asked dryly, garnering himself a dark look from his sister.

“It’s alright, you can be the tea maker in the family since water is the only thing you don’t burn,” she replied sweetly and was recipient to the same dark look.

“I’ll go now,” James announced, despite his interest in this sibling dynamic he couldn’t say that he and Vane generally got on too well and he much preferred to get back to his book.

“Thank you, James,” Emily said, following him to the door, and gave him a grateful smile. “Sorry about him, he takes the whole protective brother thing a bit too seriously, even though I’m older than him,” she added, fully aware her brother could hear her. She ignored his grumbling gallantly.

“No problem,” James replied and found he meant it. “Vane.” He glanced over her shoulder.

“Flint.” Charles didn’t even look up from handing Lucia back the blocks she kept throwing away from herself.

“Bye Lucia,” James added and the little girl looked up at the sound of her name. “Bye Emily.”

“Bye James,” she chuckled and closed the door after him. 

x x x

“Hello,” a deep and warm voice said from behind Emily and she slowly came back to the fact that she was standing by the letterboxes in the entryway of the house she lived in. Lucia was on her hip, for once content and not making a fuss, and in her other hand Emily was holding a stack of letters which she had made the mistake of opening right away.

Bills. They were bills.

She turned around slowly, trying to get control over her face but the knowing look on the man’s face now standing in front of her told her that he knew anyway.

He was tall, really tall, with blonde hair and a very kind face. His eyes held no trace of judgment, simply compassion, and it was almost too much.

“You must be Emily,” he said warmly. “And the infamous Lucia.” He smiled at the little girl in her arm.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Emily asked slowly, eyeing the man suspiciously.

He kept smiling as he looked back to her. “Apologies, I should have introduced myself first. My name is Thomas Hamilton. I believe you have met my wife, Miranda?”

“Uhm… yes, I have,” Emily replied slowly, bouncing Lucia who was starting to get restless now.

Thomas Hamilton. Miranda’s husband. Miranda whom she had definitely seen kissing (and feeling up) James. With whom she lived. Without her husband whom Emily was now meeting for the first time?

“And James, of course,” Thomas added and Emily surrendered control of her expression as she stared at him. “Who, and we’ll have to keep this a secret between us, could not stop gushing about this little lady the first or second time he met her,” he told Emily on a conspiratorial whisper. “Would you like to come up for some tea? Miranda and James are at work, I’m afraid.”

“Uh… sure?” Emily offered slowly, leaning down to pick up her purse from where she had dropped it by the letterbox.

“Is the landlord giving you grief about leaving the pushchair down here, by any chance?” Thomas asked conversationally as they went up to their floor.

“Uh, not so far,” she told him, still trying to make sense of it all.

“Do let me know if he does.” Thomas gave her a little impish smile.

“Okay,” she said simply because what the fuck.

“You can let her down on the floor,” Thomas told her over his shoulder after letting them into the flat that Miranda and James lived at. He lived at too, maybe? He certainly looked very at home there. “James baby-proofed the entire thing.”

“He what?” Emily stared at his back as he went towards the kitchen.

Thomas just threw her a smile and a wink over his shoulder and that was that until he came back with the tea. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind telling me a little bit about yourself? I was abroad for quite a while, I’m afraid, so I had to make do with stories of the new neighbor and her adorable daughter so far. Miranda said you moved in about a month ago?”

And was on the verge of moving out just as quickly, Emily thought bitterly, keeping half an eye on Lucia who was happily exploring the new space crawling and cruising. Before she could, Thomas quickly rescued a cup that had been left on the end table next to a book, the porcelain Lucia had of course taken an immediate interest in.

“That’s James’,” he said to the little girl, coaxing her to cruise along the sofa he was sitting on instead. “He probably fell asleep reading on the couch again,” he chuckled and helped Lucia climb onto the seat. “Strong climber.”

Emily let out a deep sigh. “Yeah.”

Thomas smiled and let Lucia climb all over him before she plopped herself down to the floor again. “So. You moved in about a month ago?”

Emily nodded lightly. “Moved out of my brother’s place because we were about to strangle each other.”

Thomas smiled. “Ah, yes, James mentioned that. Charles Vane. Didn’t know he had a sister.”

“Half-sister.” Emily gave a flat smile. “Same father, different mothers.”

“Did you grow up together?”

She shook her head. “We knew of each other but we didn’t really get to know each other until we were teenagers. I’m a year older.”

Thomas nodded in understanding. “But you’re close now.”

“Close to throttling each other, more like,” Emily snorted and rolled her eyes. “We’re both very stubborn and we have a temper. He was massively helpful when I found out I was having her and moved us right in. But that wasn’t going to work forever.”

“May I ask about her father or should we leave that topic?” Thomas asked kindly, offering Lucia the spoon he had stirred his tea with which she promptly stuck into her mouth and started to chew on.

Emily’s face went impassive but Thomas could still tell it was a sore subject. “He bounced when he saw the positive pregnancy test.”

Thomas made a face, looking very contrite. “I’m very sorry.”

Emily nodded, then shrugged. “It’s why Charles is so protective of us. He’d probably tear Jo- He’d probably tear him limb from limb if he ever made a reappearance.”

“Couldn’t blame him, could we,” Thomas surmised thoughtfully. “I’d quite like to offer to add James to the mix.”

That made Emily laugh. “He’s got a really good scowl.”

“He does.” They shared a grin.

“He also looks fucking adorable holding her.” Emily continued to grin, nodding at Lucia who had just pulled herself up to stand by Thomas’ knees again and lifted up one arm for him to pick her up.

“I can only imagine so far, but I can’t wait to see it,” Thomas smiled, sitting the toddler on his knees and laughing when Lucia tried to beat him with the spoon.

They didn’t have to wait long for that. James holding Lucia, that was.

They heard the key in the lock when Thomas had just poured them another cup and then James came in, looking less than impressed with his day so far, but the scowl immediately slid clean off his face as he stared in disbelief at the man now standing from the couch.

“You’re home,” he whispered, taking a tentative step forward, and then surged across the room to embrace Thomas in the tightest hug.

Thomas was smiling even before he was swept up in James’ arms but then he was positively beaming.

“I’m home,” he said quietly, leaning his head back to look James in the face, cupping it in his hands, and then kissed him.

And then, of course, Lucia gave a loud cry, positively enraged at her two new favorites not paying her any attention whatsoever.

Emily quickly scooped her up from the floor to quieten her but the two men had already separated, turning towards them. She offered a smile, probably a bit crooked but no less honest.

“Thomas invited us up for some tea. I think you three have a habit for plucking me off the stairs,” she said with some amusement.

“It seems that we do,” Thomas smiled. “Now, if you would, please.” He gestured for Emily who shot him a knowing smirk and handed Lucia to James who took her immediately. “Yes, you were right,” Thomas decided, smile softening a touch at James automatically situating Lucia in his arms expertly. “Fucking adorable.”

James spluttered and Emily threw her head back laughing.

It wasn’t until later in the day, after Lucia was in bed and Emily finally had some time to be an adult – which unfortunately meant taking care of such fun adult things like figuring out how to pay her new bills without having to ask her brother, who had paid rent already, again, for even more money – that she realized that she couldn’t find the letters she was sure she had brought up with her.

They didn’t make a reappearance until the next morning when Emily and Lucia came in from their usual morning walk. They were neatly tucked back into their envelopes so at first she just thought Thomas had returned them from where she had forgotten them at their place. But then, a little later while Lucia was napping, she saw the small addition to each bill.

_Paid in full_ , someone had written in neat, swirly letters next to the total, on each and every one.

x x x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year over here too! :)  
> In this one we get a bit more brother/sister stuff and then the rest of the Ranger crew makes an appearance.  
> Hope you enjoy!

x x x

“Asleep. Finally.” Charles dropped onto the couch next to his sister with a heavy sigh, sliding down until he was reclined comfortably. “You’d think she’d be tired after all the entertainment we gave her today.”

Emily let out a snort and offered him her bottle of beer from which he took a deep swallow. She didn’t usually have alcohol at her home but he had brought a few bottles with him today.

“I’m not going to get it,” she said after a stretch of silence.

“Em-”

“No,” she cut him off sharply. “I’m not. I know it. And don’t give me any bullshit about it either. I know it in my gut.” From the corner of her eye she could see him scowl at that. “It was a stupid thing to do,” she whispered, shaking her head. “What a waste of fucking money.”

Charles said nothing but he didn’t have to. He’d rejected the idea of her moving out point blank the first time she had brought it up and then only reluctantly helped her because she was even more stubborn than he was. Now he’d fronted two months’ rent and she’d found the fridge re-stocked a handful times as well. She’d carefully kept mum on the other bills though, because she didn’t want him to know. Neither that they even existed nor that Thomas Hamilton had paid them. There was little dignity she found herself still possessing, but at least there was still some. Not for much longer though. Not if she had to move back into Charles’ flat.

“If you’re talking about moving out, yeah, maybe that was stupid,” he said finally and Emily heaved a big sigh, telling herself not to go off. Again. “If you’re talking about your degree, then you’re fucking wrong. Had to put that brain of yours to good use and look at you fucking go.”

Emily shook her head, taking back the beer but only taking a small sip. “And where did that get me now? Nowhere. I barely could get anyone to take me seriously even before, but now? As a single mother? Only able to work part-time? Do you know what they told me today?” She let out a scoff. “They’d have me as a secretary. A fucking secretary. I have a fucking master’s in project management and they offered me a position as a _secretary_.”

Several moments passed.

And then another few moments passed until Emily clocked on to her brother being suspiciously silent.

“What?” She half turned to him, the look from her eyes piercing right through him, steel blue meeting steel blue.

Charles only held the eye contact for a moment before grimacing, grabbing the beer and finishing it.

“ _Charles_.” She sat up and glared down at him. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, avoiding her eyes and picking inexistent lint from his jeans.

“Charles Edward Vane. What. Did. You. Do,” she ground out.

“Fuck you,” he growled at her using his full name.

“Baby, I’m going to do much worse if you don’t spit it out in the next five seconds,” she promised him.

He rolled his eyes. Then he sighed. “Why the fuck is she asleep,” he grumbled.

Emily narrowed her eyes, considering that. “I can still kill you silently in twenty ways while holding my daughter, thank you very much.”

“Don’t doubt you can,” he muttered and lifted himself up. “Getting another beer.”

Emily grunted and stretched herself out on the couch in his absence. He gave her a blank stare when he came back. She smiled back sweetly but then sighed and lifted her legs.

“No, thank you. I don’t want those anywhere near me when I tell you,” he declined politely and Emily cackled. Then shushed herself. They both listened carefully for any noises from the bedroom but fortunately there weren’t any.

“Just… siddown, I promise I won’t kick you when you tell me,” she sighed and he sat down. “Much,” she added with a smirk and kicked lightly at his thigh. His fingers clamped around her ankle firmly and they had a staring contest for a bit. “Alright, baby bro, hit me with it,” she told him, cradling the new bottle of beer on her stomach after he had handed it over.

“I may have called Eleanor,” he confessed hesitantly, still holding onto her ankle but just smoothing his thumb over her calf mostly.

“Can you please stop playing with my leg hair. Thank you,” she told him dryly, rolling her eyes. She did want to kick him, in the thigh or other places, but she was reserving that for a little later.

“’s getting kinda long,” he commented and she gave him a look like he had lost his marbles. He had. They both had. It was fun. “You haven’t shaved in a while.”

Emily let out a snort. “None of your fucking business, darling brother. No one to shave for anyway.”

Charles’ face morphed into that special scowl he had every time Lucia’s father was referenced. It reeked of bloody murder and Emily, who had never been scared of her brother a day in her life, hoped that the two of them never met because she liked having her brother around, and not in jail for actual murder.

“Should come out with the rest this weekend.”

“And who do you imagine will watch Lucia if we both go out?” she shot back immediately.

He made a flat face. “True.”

“I could ask Miranda, James and Thomas, I suppose,” she pondered out loud, smirking at the very different but still special scowl that took over her brother’s face then. “Why do you hate Flint so much?”

“Reasons,” he grumbled very elaborately.

“Wow, that explains everything,” she gave back sarcastically. “Coming back to what you just said before – the fuck you called Eleanor for?” He caught both her ankles before she could really kick him. “Let me, you deserve it, you fucking idiot!”

“I called her about a job for you,” he told her, struggling to keep her legs contained and his family jewels protected.

Emily froze. “What?”

“She wants you to come in for an interview on Friday.”

Emily stared at her brother in disbelief. “You fucking did not.”

Charles remained silent.

“The fuck I’m going to work for Eleanor!” she exploded, scrambling to her feet and staring down at her brother who was staring at a point right in front of him very silently. “What the fuck, Charles?”

“You need a job, she owed me a favor,” he said simply.

Emily scoffed, gaping at him incredulously. “She owed you a favor?” she repeated and couldn’t help a sarcastic laugh. “She fucking owes you… I can’t even say of many fucking favors. _Charles_.”

And then she shut up. Completely.

He looked up at her and what she saw on his face and in his eyes silenced every other word or protest. “Please,” he said, quietly.

She swallowed, heaved a sigh and dropped back down next to him, squishing him on purpose. He grunted at her elbow in his stomach but lifted his arm so she could snuggle under it.

“Fucking Eleanor,” she grumbled and stole the beer to drain half the bottle in one go.

“Fucking Eleanor,” he agreed and finished it.

x x x

“Emily, open the door, for crying out loud!” Loud knocking, more like pounding on the door, followed the exclamation.

James Flint ripped open his door at the same time as Emily finally opened hers.

“He giving you any trouble?” James stepped out into the corridor, penetrating gaze trained on the… exuberantly dressed man with a mullet and very… peculiar facial hair who had been pounding on Emily’s door for a good five minutes.

“Excuse me, I have to piss,” the man declared, pushing past Emily and into her flat.

James crossed the rest of the distance, eyeing his neighbor closely. “You want me to drag him out?”

Emily shook her head and laughed. “No, but thanks for offering. He’s just Jack.” She gave a shrug. “Friend of my brother’s who was supposed to pick me up for going out tonight but it looks like I might be the designated driver after all.” She spoke more loudly towards the end, Jack clambering his way back into view after a quick pit stop to her bathroom. She’d probably need a hazmat suit to clean it before it was usable again.

“What? No, I can drive,” Jack insisted but Emily fixed him with a piercing stare that made James a little proud. He may not like her brother much but they did have a talent for scowling and menacing looks. He approved of that much.

“Car keys.” She held out her hand and didn’t take her eyes off of Jack until he dropped them into her palm.

“You look great!” he told her cheerfully a moment later.

“You do,” James agreed, flashing a quick smile that made Emily’s eyebrows rise. “I have eyes.”

“Not anymore if my brother heard you,” she snorted. “How’s Lu?”

“Thomas is reading to her,” James answered and his fond was showing so clearly that Emily couldn’t help her grin.

She’d asked the three to watch her daughter for the evening reluctantly and only because Charles kept pestering her about it. They’d had two test runs which had postponed going out for drinks for another week, much to his delight, not, but now Emily was almost sure she could go out with her friends for a few hours without booking it back home an hour in. Maybe.

“We have all your numbers, you gave us an extensive list of her routines and if anything is at all wrong, we will call immediately,” he told her before she could even open her mouth to repeat herself for the tenth time. “She’s good.”

Emily pursed her lips but remained silent.

“Where is Lulu? I wanna see her,” Jack pouted and Emily sighed.

“She’s with her babysitters, Jack, and you will not disturb her because she’s just settled with them and if you fuck that up, Charles will fuck you up for fucking up going out. Alright?” She gave him a look.

“A simple ‘fuck you, Jack’ would have sufficed,” he told her forlornly.

“Offer still stands,” James told her with a grin as he turned to leave.

Emily tilted her head like she was considering it but then she shook her head. “I wish.”

James laughed, knocked on the door frame and disappeared into his own flat again.

“You know Flint?” Jack eyed her curiously.

“He’s my neighbor.”

Jack nodded at that, as if that made everything make sense, which to him it might. Who knew.

“I just have to grab my bag then we can go.”

“Whoop!” Jack cheered and Emily let out another sigh.

Drinks with friends, her brother had said. It would be great, he had said. You’re going to have fun, he had said.

“There she is!”

The grin on Emily’s face from being welcomed so cheerfully slowly slid off her face when they came closer and she saw just who was on the chair next to her brother, with his arm casually slung over the back of it. She shot her brother a look that read ‘really?’ which he pointedly ignored and nodded at Eleanor who gave a small smile in greeting.

“You’re wearing it,” Max grinned smugly, greeting Emily with a firm hug and pushing her down on the seat next to her. “And the girls look _good_.” She cast a meaningful look down into Emily’s cleavage which was amply presented with the help of a corset Max had talked her into when Emily had last visited the store.

“My eyes are up here, madam,” Emily laughed and sat down. “Anne.”

Anne nodded at her, eyes on Jack who had detoured to the bar to get them a round of drinks apparently.

“Anyone else coming?”

“Idelle canceled,” Max told her, tangling her fingers with Anne’s and smiling at her until Anne had to smile back. “That’s better,” she said gently and pressed a quick kiss to Anne’s cheek before turning back to Emily.

“So I’m the only single pringle.” Emily made a face. “ _Again_.”

“The world is your oyster, ma chérie,” Max grinned, gesturing around the pub.

Emily made another face and Max laughed. “All I see is rotten mussels that’ll give me a bad case of food poisoning.”

“Tsk, tsk, always so grumpy,” Max tutted at her. “We’ll find you a fine gentleman or lady tonight, Emmie.”

“Fucking finally.” Emily grabbed one of the shots from the tray that Jack had just brought over and downed it immediately. She was going to need plenty more of those if she had to watch her brother and Eleanor the whole night. “Did they come together?” she asked Max quietly, going for one of the pints next and taking a long swallow.

Max nodded and Emily sighed. “Didn’t know they were back on.”

“Charles called in a favor so she’d give me a job,” Emily explained and nodded at Max whose eyebrows had all but disappeared into her hairline.

“Some favor that must have been,” Max commented airly and Emily grimaced in disgust.

“No. Please. I know way too much about what he sounds and looks like when he fucks her already, don’t make me have to bleach my brain again,” she begged and Max cackled.

“May we laugh too, dearest sister of mine?” Charles called out across the table.

“Oh, so you did notice I had arrived. I wasn’t sure, you seemed occupied,” she replied sweetly. “Hi Eleanor.”

“Hi Emily,” Eleanor replied simply. “All set for Monday?”

“Eight am sharp.” Emily nodded and had another deep swallow of beer. It wasn’t secretary, but it wasn’t far off either. Fuck her life.

With enough drinks in her Emily retired her ice queen crown, for now, and found herself tucked under her brother’s other arm, teaming up with her brother’s on-again-off-again girlfriend in teasing the shit out of him. They did get along when the two were on good terms but too much had happened for Emily to treat the blonde without reservation.

“Enough,” Charles declared, hitting a flat hand on the table and stood. “Let’s get some air.” He pulled Eleanor up and with him as he made for the door.

“Practice safe sex, baby bro,” Emily called after him with a smirk.

“Kettle, pot, pot, kettle,” he called back over his shoulder with the same smirk.

“Fuck you,” she grumbled but he didn’t hear. “Are you sure you don’t want a fourth?” she asked Jack and scooted over to lean her head on his shoulder.

“Your rack’s sure got enough ham,” he drawled with a grin and yelped when she boxed his thigh for the terrible pun. “He’d wring all our necks.”

“He would.” Emily sighed, and then sat up abruptly.

“What? What is it?” Jack asked, sitting up as well and peering in the direction she was transfixed on, but she didn’t answer.

There, by the bar, she had seen…

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she said slowly but her heart was still racing her her chest.

There’d been a man by the bar, with long, dark, curly hair falling over shoulders she thought-

No. When the people at the bar moved again, he was gone.

“Come on, give you a spin on the dance floor.” Jack stood and offered her his hand.

“Every time you step on my toes, you owe me a pound,” she reminded him and he heaved a deep sigh.

“Fucking bleedin’ me dry,” he muttered darkly.

Emily made it home via cab as none of them were in any state to drive home safely. Max, Anne and Jack were lucky to live near their favorite pub but Emily regretted letting her brother talk her into it when she saw the fare. She hadn’t paid for a single drink tonight, she never did, but this? Her only redemption was the fact that she was starting a new job next week.

At Eleanor’s.

As a glorified secretary.

“Fuck my life,” she groaned, sliding under the duvet on the pullout couch.

She repeated it once more when she closed her eyes and immediately her mind replayed the short glimpse of _no one_ at the bar.

Her subconscious won over her mind as she slept that night, of the man with the wild, dark curls, the sea blue eyes and heart stopping smile.

The miniature version of which was the first thing she saw when she woke up.

“Ma-ma!” Lucia beamed, patting her hand all over her mother’s face happily. Thomas was standing behind her, looking both apologetic and amused.

“She missed you,” he told her as she carefully sat up to cradle her daughter into a hug.

“I missed her too,” she said quietly, pressing a kiss to Lucia’s own wild, dark curls.

And I miss him, she thought.

x x x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I barely have a clue about warehousing and wholesale business and my brain doesn’t wanna do more than basic reading comprehension most of these days so all the work aspects in this (and future chapters) are based on cursory glimpses of the first few relevant search results.

x x x

“Whoop, hello there, careful.”

It was her first day of work and Emily was late. And mad. Seething, really.

Her darling brother had been supposed to come over to help with Lucia so Emily had more peace to get ready for her first day of work and drop Lucia off at the day nanny’s. Then of course he hadn’t shown, and she had a pretty good inkling why – which really didn’t help as she went to work on her first day at Guthrie Wholesales.

In addition to Charles not showing up, Lucia had been as cranky as Emily had been stressed and it was just not a good combination. And then to top it all off Lucia had mashed the half chewed biscuit Emily had given her to buy about a minute of peace to at least slap on mascara and eyeliner into her mother’s carefully cleaned and ironed blouse so Emily had had to change into whatever else was appropriate for her first day of work. Because of course she hadn’t gotten around to preparing work outfits ahead of time and had hand-washed and mostly blow-dried the blouse the previous evening to have something for the first day at least.

The man she had just walked into, hurrying into the office part of the building complex that was Guthrie Wholesales, was… tall. Very tall. Very tall and very cute, offering her a smile of boyish charm on what would have been a definite baby face if his cheeks hadn’t been covered by blond scruff.

“Thanks,” Emily told him, trying to contain her scowl and turn it into a polite smile of sorts. By his somewhat guarded expression she could tell it wasn’t working well for her. “Sorry, running late.”

“Miss Guthrie’s not there yet,” he told her in a calming tone and offered her his hand to shake. “Billy Manderly. I’m down at the warehouse. Flint sent me to pick up some papers but like I said, Miss Guthrie isn’t there yet.”

“Emily Colbert,” she introduced herself, shaking his hand and forcing herself not to think about the way Billy’s bicep strained his long sleeved shirt as they shook hands. “I’m-”

“The new administrative specialist I told Flint about,” Eleanor continued for her, coming in looking just as hurried as Emily moments before. “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” Emily replied politely.

“I’ll send Miss Colbert by with the papers later, Mr. Manderly,” Eleanor told her employee who gave a nod and disappeared. Booked it, was more like it as Emily observed with interest. “Sorry, we overslept, Charles didn’t hear his phone and-” She broke off at seeing Emily’s expression. “Right. Not at work. This way, please.”

Eleanor spent about two hours telling Emily the various things she had thought of for her to do. Two hours during which Emily suppressed many colorful comments about how she was only one person with a part-time job and not the second coming of Jesus fucking Christ. It was clear that Eleanor desperately needed someone to tidy up a lot of administrative messes. Emily would do her best but even having to work with Eleanor for two hours so far was… a trip.

There was too much history between them for them to work together professionally without that requiring a deliberate effort from both sides. Emily had resolved to try and keep her nose out of  the whole mess that was Charles and Eleanor , but it was hard. Somehow they’d have to make figure out how to separate work and not-work interactions.  She was not looking forward to it.

Finally Eleanor decided that it was time to show Emily around the premises and then to her office.

“You’re going to have to wear safety boots at all times since your primary post is down at the warehouse. Like I said, I’d like you to oversee standardization of the warehouse processes, especially ordering and stocking. There have been some irregularities lately.”

In other words – someone was not doing their job well enough so Eleanor wanted her to suss out who that was and probably get them fired. Great.

“The company affords each employee a yearly allowance for safety gear. I’ll have Flint give you the catalog. Anything up to the allowance is covered by us, if you go over you’ll pay the rest. If you go under, the difference expires. Until you have your safety gear, you can use my spare boots.” Eleanor extracted a truly hideous pair of safety boots from the locked cupboard behind her almighty desk and held them out for Emily to take.

“I could’ve brought my own…” Emily pointed out slowly as she sat back down to trade her first-day-of-work heels for the much more comfortable and familiar safety boots. Having worked mainly in construction project management she was more than used to wearing them on site. That Eleanor hadn’t told her about that aspect of her work was just another puzzle piece in Emily’s collection entitled ‘Charles made Eleanor give me a job and Eleanor has no fucking clue what to do with me’.

“Oh. Right. Didn’t think of that.” Eleanor grimaced slightly. “Word of advice: don’t let Flint order for you.” She gestured to the shoes Emily was now wearing as they both stood.

Emily fought down a smile. They were neon abominations, the shoes, and she could just picture James scouring the catalog for the ugliest pair he could find. She might have done the same, given the chance.

Eleanor smiled back tentatively. “Ready to go?”

Emily eyed the other woman for a moment. “Do you think it might make sense to keep it on the down low I’m Charles’ sister?” she asked in a contemplative tone like she had just thought of it.

She hadn’t. It hadn’t been relevant in recent times but she’d resented the years where she’d been mainly known as Charles’ sister in their teenage years. She was her own woman and she didn’t need her brother to pave ways for her that she could very well bulldozer all on her merry own.

“Yeah, that might be better,” Eleanor agreed slowly. “Keep work and… private separate.”

Emily gave a nod. “Ready for the tour, Miss Guthrie.”

Eleanor regarded  the sister of her… whatever-Charles-was for a moment longer then stood and Emily followed suit.

Eleanor seemed to want to show Emily every damn little crevice of Guthrie Wholesales. To what purpose, Emily didn’t know but she soon tired of her best friendly hi-I’m-new smile as they opened every damn office door where Eleanor introduced her to every damn person who worked there.

Fortunately Emily was good with names and faces, an invaluable skill when working in a field dominated by men who joyfully made things as easy and pleasant as possible for the new girl in charge. Knowing exactly whom she was dealing with and remembering every detail paired with the ability to hold her own but also know when to draw a line or give a bit of leeway had been paramount in building a reputation that made a career at all possible.

And then she’d had a baby.

Now she had to start again as an administrative specialist, Eleanor insisted on introducing her as such, and a list of holes to plug the length of her arm.

Most of the people Eleanor introduced her to were unmemorable, except for the accountant. He was perfectly polite but the way he eyed her through his ridiculously small, round glasses made her instantly wary of him. As it so happened, she would be reporting to Mr. Dufresne as well as he oversaw all the financial aspects of everything. She could see that going just as well as reporting to Miss Guthrie herself.

Finally they made it to the warehouse and Eleanor outfitted her with more safety gear that Emily was more than familiar with. There was definitely no point in dressing to the nines for work if she was going to be in steel toe boots, a high-visibility vest and hardhat every day. She’d adapt, like she always did.

The warehouse office made up about half the back of a container-sized structure near the main gate of the warehouse. The front half was taken up by a sitting area with a coffee/tea station as well as a counter behind which Tall Blond was working on a computer. Behind that was a closed door but you could clearly hear the voice of man whose name tag was on it.  _McGraw, warehouse management_ , it read.

“Morning again, Mr. Manderly,” Eleanor said to him in that polite friendly voice of hers and Mr. Manderly gave a nod towards the two women. “Don’t have to ask if he’s in,” Eleanor muttered as James’ voice got a little louder and then stopped. Probably the end of the phone call then.

Eleanor straightened her posture and knocked on the door but opened it without waiting to be called in.

“What the fuck did I just say about waltzing in he-”

Emily was very glad for her poker face because the sight of James abruptly stopping in the middle of yelling at whoever was disrupting him when the realization that that person was his boss was simply too comical. She already knew who would be getting that little tale of First Day at Work.

“Good morning,” Eleanor said tightly.

James nodded at her, face smoothing out some from scowling at the distruptors but the frown stayed. It always did. Except, as Emily knew from much experience, when Lucia was involved. Or Thomas. Or Miranda. Or any combination of them. Otherwise it seemed permanently etched into his face and she had no doubt that it was part of the reason why the warehouse worked as well as it did.

Except for the little irregularities that Eleanor had hinted at.

“As I told you last week, Miss Colbert is starting today as the administrative specialist and will be focusing on organizing and standardizing the warehouse processes,” Eleanor stated, gesturing to Emily.

James glanced at her, almost apologetically?, but then returned his gaze to his boss. “And I told you, we don’t need a secretary. Or babysitter.”

Eleanor was neither impressed nor fazed. “Did you find last week’s lost shipments?” she asked coolly.

James’ silence spoke for itself.

So the irregularities had to do with missing goods. Emily was definitely here to get someone fired and she had the unpleasant feeling that it might be the man behind the desk across from her. Fuck you Charles, she thought, not for the first time that day.

Eleanor gave a sugary smile that had the hard edge of a seasoned business woman. “I trust that you will welcome Miss Colbert appropriately and ensure a constructive, cordial working atmosphere,” she said, glancing at Emily and then returning her piercing look to her other employee. “Miss Colbert is working from eight to one and will be here three days a week and two days upstairs with me. Any preferences?”

“Alternating days?” James suggested in a tone like she had just asked him to choose between a round of root canals or hacking his own foot off.

Eleanor gave a sharp nod. “See you tomorrow then,” she said turning to Emily and stalked away.

As soon as the door was securely closed behind her, Emily’s and James’ gazes found each other naturally. Emily raised one eyebrow and grinned when a smirk took over her neighbor’s face slowly but surely.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Coffee,” he agreed, leaning back in his office chair with a deep sigh.

“Just this once,” she told him with a look and went to get them some coffee. They were going to need it.

“Irregularities, huh?” she asked quietly after James had given her a rundown of warehouse first and had shown her the catalog for her to choose her gear from. “Is she trying to get rid of you?”

James’ green eyes flashed dangerously until he remembered who was asking. Then he gave a shrug. “Sometimes cargo gets lost or ordered incorrectly, labeled incorrectly, put in a place and forgotten, shipped out to the wrong recipient,… it happens,” he answered tightly but Emily wasn’t fooled.

“But it happened a few too many times recently.”

James gave her a look. “I know how the system works.”

“But you don’t know how those things disappeared,” she said what he hadn’t. “Well, good thing I’m annoying and smart then.” She gave him her best cunning smirk, a trait she shared with her brother.

“If Lu inherits that fucking smirk from the both of you, you’re gonna have to lock her up when she hits her teens,” James commented not without amusement.

“Or maybe I’ll just teach her how to discern the assholes from the good ones way beforehand. And how to deal with unwelcome attention.” She leaned back in her seat, casually cracking her knuckles.

James grinned. “She’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

“That she will be,” Emily agreed.

Then there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” James called out impatiently. “Ah, Muldoon, good. Get this woman her own computer so she can stop messing with mine,” he said to the bald man, waving him inside.

“I only downloaded you a proper browser,” Emily told him, rolling her eyes.

Muldoon stared at her. “Thank fucking God,” he muttered then, ignoring the glare James sent his way. “Where do you want it? Guess there is some space left on the counter.” He turned towards the door but James shook his head and pointed to the corner opposite his desk where a filing cabinet was.

“Alright,” Muldoon agreed without verbal inquiry but his face told plenty about his surprise and questions he had about Flint letting the new girl set up her desk _in_ his office. “I’ll need to track down a desk and some extension cords. I’ll be back.”

“Keep me where you can see me, huh?” Emily smirked knowingly but James just gave her a look. “Or maybe this way we can just gossip better.” She smiled widely.

James ignored her and started clicking around on his screen. “The handbook’s over there,” he told her with a dismissing gesture towards the book shelf. Mostly it contained badly labeled lever arch files but also a row of catalogs and brochures.

“Handbook?” Emily went over to the shelf, letting her fingers run over the spines.

“Warehouse health and safety,” he told her.

Emily found the thick paperback brochure. “Got it.” She brought it over and put it down on his desk.

James pushed it back over towards her with the opposite of a reassuring grin. “Read it.”

Emily stared at him.

“You work in a warehouse now, darling,” he told her sweetly.

She picked up the handbook and went to the last page. “It has 124 pages.”

For a few moments they had a staring contest.

“My warehouse, my rules,” he said simply. “We’re not skimping on safety on my watch here.”

“This’ll take me a while.”

“Nothing you can do for me until you are set up with a computer and access to the system anyway. Muldoon’s good but he’s not the fastest.”

Emily thumbed through the handbook. “You’ll regret this,” she told him simply as she went to the first page and got comfortable in her seat. As comfortable as she could at least, James needed better office chairs, clearly. She was sure she would figure out a way to get them, once Muldoon had her set up. She was not going to spend five hours a day parking her bum on this crap.

“How so?” James asked with fake interest.

Emily offered him the sugary-sweet smile he had seen her offer her brother and it, too, was the opposite of a reassuring smile. “I have good fucking memory and I’m going to tell you every little, tiny violation. You can start by replacing the spare hardhats, they suck.” She slid her chair back a little and pushed  things a little farther, always one to enjoy dancing on the knife’s edge, by bringing up her feet  up  to the edge of his desk. “See you in 124 pages, Flint.”

x x x


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a delightful (not) appearance of one Mr. Ned Low in this chapter with all his pleasantness (very not). He’ll be dealt with accordingly... (Including maybe a little too much female badassery from Emily but who hasn’t wished they could dish a good old pounding to a lowlife like him…)
> 
> BUT! We also have a side of rather paternal Flint, I guess you could say :)
> 
> Content warnings: rape threat, misogynistic language, manhandling, physical violence

x x x

Emily’s second desk was a whole lot nicer than the one down in the warehouse office. It was bigger and adjustable, the office chair was  _nice_ , and the computer was not a thrown together collection of whatever parts Muldoon had replaced elsewhere but were functional enough not to throw away yet.

There was just one problem with it.

Maybe two that were two sides of the same coin.

The upstairs office was the anteroom to Eleanor’s – which really drove home the secretary/receptionist duties that were expected of her the days she was upstairs – and  instead of getting to watch James snap and growl at almost everyone that dared to set foot in his office  she had to listen to Eleanor do business.

Eleanor wasn’t a bad business woman, not at all. She was pretty good at it, even. But having to listen to her voice five hours a day, and take orders from her directly, and witness the saccharine tone with which she sweet-talked vendors and buyers alike… It made Emily bleach her ears just as much as having to listen to her brother wax poetic about his on-again-girlfriend the night before during his non-apology for leaving her to her own devices in the morning.

But there were a few good moments too. Moments where Emily could almost see what Charles saw in Eleanor and although there was a door in-between, she had a front row ticket to one of those moments.

The entertainment came in the form of a dubious looking man with long blond hair and a scruffy beard that treated Emily to a look like she was dirt under his shoes as he sauntered up to her desk. She resisted the urge to ask him what the damn hell he wanted, reminding herself that politeness and friendliness were expected of her as Eleanor’s  _assistant_ .

“Good morning, how can I help you?” she asked in her fakest cheery voice, the urge to jam her pen into his eye as he leered down at her growing by the second.

“You new here?” he asked dismissively.

“Do you have an appointment with Miss Guthrie, Mr. …?” Obviously she was new here but that didn’t mean she was going to let him walk all over her.

“Low, and I don’t need an appointment, poppet.” He offered her a condescending grin.

Oh yea, definitely pen in the eye, Emily thought to herself. She had spares in the drawers too. And what a fitting surname he had.

“I’m afraid you do now, Mr. Low,” she told him sweetly. “Let me check when Miss Guthrie is available. Does…” She went to the calendar application, ignoring that the next three hours in Eleanor’s diary were completely empty. “Thursday 10am suit you?”

“ _Now_ suits me,” he snarled at her, banging a hand on her desk.

Emily neither jumped nor blinked. “Miss Guthrie-”

“Mr. Low.” The door behind Emily had opened and out stepped Business Woman Eleanor Guthrie, fixing the Low-life with a firm glare. “Thank you, Miss Colbert. If you wouldn’t mind coming through, Mr. Low.”

The look Eleanor gave Emily almost made her contemplate calling down to the warehouse for James, and Billy. She refrained but kept a close ear to what she could hear from inside Eleanor’s office. Low was not happy with what Eleanor was telling him but it sounded like Eleanor could hold her own so Emily didn’t sweep in with a serving of coffee from the fancy machine.

Low stomped off, muttering darkly to himself some shit that would have made Emily all too happy to find all her spare pens and stick them very pleasant places in his body. Eleanor watched him leave, standing in her office door.

The two women exchanged a look and nothing more needed to be said. They might not see eye to eye in private matters but up against men like Low? There was no question they had each other’s backs.

About half an hour later the first of those  _irregularities_ popped up. An enraged customer called Eleanor about a late delivery of goods that neither Eleanor nor Emily could find any trace of in the system ever having been ordered, neither customer from them nor them from their vendor. Only the customer forwarded them a confirmation email that looked as legit as it could, down to a typo in the small print at the very end.

So Eleanor had Emily print it and take it down to Flint, saving herself the hassle of having to confront Mr. Scowl herself.

It was on the way there that Emily learned that Mr. Low had neither left nor gotten over his ire towards Eleanor, standing outside the warehouse smoking and ranting to who had to be a man who came with him as Emily didn’t know him. She would have ignored both of them, gladly so, but then she caught a snippet of what exactly Low was saying.

“... last time she’s ripped us off. She’ll pay, fucking bitch. See how she likes it when I make her pay with her sweet little cunt. Won’t be so sweet or so little when I’m through with her. Hope she likes it rough,” he was growling to his… friend.

It wasn’t the first time Emily had heard that type of language nor that type of threat issued towards a woman, or even towards herself, but it was the next sentence that removed all possibility for  any ‘choose your battles’ .

“Holmes came through with the intel, she’ll get a nice little surprise when she gets home.”

Emily had just nodded in greeting at Billy who was discussing something with Dooley, another warehouse worker, across the yard but then whirled around at Low’s words.

The two men looked at her immediately and it was clear she had heard.

“You wanna join, poppet?” he asked snidely, giving her a slow once-over with a truly disgusting leer.

“You could try, I guess,” she replied coolly. “It wouldn’t end very pretty for you though. And it won’t either if you don’t get the fuck off these premises and crawl back into whatever hole you came from.”

Low let out a snort and leisurely flicked his cigarette away. “Got a big mouth on her, doesn’t she, Meeks? Could make use of that.” His eyes flashed at her meaningfully. “Two for the price of one.” He advanced on her threatingly, sneering down at her. “Listen here, little bitch,” he snarled then, taking the last step forward with his hand shooting out to grab her hair in the nape of her neck so fast that he did get a hold of her.

But not long.

Not for long at all.

“Get your fucking hand off me,” she told him dangerously, looking him dead in the eyes and smelling his disgusting breath as it fanned over her face.

“How about not?” he replied with a taunting lilt and put some pressure on her neck as if to push her down towards his groin.

A second later his hand was off her and he was yowling in pain cradling his now very probably broken wrist, according to the sickeningly satisfying crunch it had made when she’d grabbed and twisted it off her.

“You bitch!” he yelled and charged at her but this time she was prepared. She may have been smaller and lighter than him but she knew how to use that to her advantage, and she had so, so much experience doing exactly that.

By the time the warehouse men showed up  about a minute or so later, alerted by Billy who had seen the situation escalate, she had Low on his front on the floor, arm twisted behind his back with her kneeling on him. His friend, Meeks or whatever his name was, had  been smart and stayed out of it.

They were both a little worse for wear, him more so than her. The metallic taste of blood was on her tongue and she spat some on the pavement beside them, half a mind to spit right into his disgusting little face. The sting of her split lip was familiar as she ran the tip of her tongue over it.

He had a mouthful of blood as well, his nose dripping with it too and a wonderful collection of bruises waiting to bloom all over his body. She may have been smaller and lighter, but oh honey, her elbows were sharp, her fists unerring, and she had a vast ocean of rage simmering right under her skin just waiting to be unleashed.

“You fucking bitch, you’ll pay for this!” Low screamed at her, trying to get out of her hold but she had him solid. He tried to find purchase with his legs, wriggling under her and cursing colorfully. A not too soft but also not very hard _nudge_ against his neck that might have added a little scrape to his chin against the pavement under them convinced him to ease off.

“Stay down, Mr. Low-life,” she hissed at him, putting more weight on her knee and leaning in towards his ear. His head jerked backwards for her chin/jaw/nose, but she’d seen that coming.

“Nice try, _poppet_ ,” she chuckled darkly, seeing James, Billy and some others approach quickly out of the corner of her eye. Meeks, the coward, had moved back like he had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.

James’ gaze was piercing, ready to pounce at the slightest motion, but she shook her head at him minutely. He held out his arm, just slightly, stopping at a few steps’ distance but near enough that he could jump in immediately if necessary.

Low-life seemed well aware of the man power she had just gained, becoming very still under her. Emily was not fooled but even so couldn’t resist grabbing a handful of his hair at nape of his neck, like he had her, bending his head backwards just ever so.

“You listen to me good, you fucking cockroach,” she snarled at him. “You’re going to fucking get out of here and never come back. Take your fucking business elsewhere, we don’t need your dirty scum around here. And if I hear a whisper of you going near her house, or her car, or anywhere she is, I’ll find you and display your bloody head on a fucking stick for the world to see.”

Emily spat on the floor again, she hated the taste of blood in her mouth and the memories it always brought  with it .

Low spluttered, probably more for air than to reply, her sharp knee pressing down between his shoulders, but  she didn’t care.

“Am I understood?” she asked, letting up a little. “Huh?” She pulled his head back a little more, tightening her grip.

“Understood,” he gasped and after another moment she let up, climbing off him and standing.

He staggered as he struggled to his feet, fixed in place by not only her glare but those of the men at her side and behind her as well.  The lower half of his face was covered in blood and his shoulder didn’t look quite alright, neither his wrist. Pity, that.

“Smile,” she told him sarcastically, taking a picture of his face with her phone. “Nah, ah, ah,” she tutted when he charged at her, James and Billy stepping forward immediately. “Get the fuck out,” she snarled at him.

Finally he got the message and slinked off, Meeks following at a careful distance.

“The fuck was that about?” James asked and his voice was more of a growl than anything else.

“You see him again, you get rid of him by whatever means necessary, no questions asked,” Emily told him firmly, casting a look at the rest of them as well as she wiped her hands on her trousers. “I gotta make some calls.”

She made for the office building, not looking forward to the pleasurable task of letting Eleanor know, as well as her brother. She wasn’t sure which conversation would be more pleasant. And then she’d find an ice pack or two for her lip and her ribs where Low had gotten an elbow in.

“Oh no, you don’t.” James took her by the elbow, almost carefully, and steered her into his office, barking at someone to find some ice packs. From the wall of the front part of the office block he grabbed first aid supplies and made her sit in his swanky office chair.

“Explain,” he said with a hard look, setting about disinfecting her scrapes and cleaning the blood off.

Emily remained silent, barely wincing at the burning sting the disinfectant left on her lip and her knuckles.

“Emily.”

She just looked at him, jaw set, rage still  simmering in her icy blue eyes.

“Eleanor is going to ask why the fuck you beat up one of our key vendors and you better have something bloody good to tell her or you’ll get fired on your second fucking day here. I’m sure you don’t want to go home to Lucia like this, do you?”

Emily’s eyes flashed with renewed ire and she sat up. “Fuck you,” she ground out, slapping his hands away from her. “Don’t bring my daughter into this.”

“Your daughter is the reason you’re here,” James pointed out simply, not shying away from holding her gaze with his own unyielding one. “Your daughter is the reason you agreed to do this job. You got a better one lined upo, be my guest, get yourself kicked out.”

Emily’s jaw worked as she clenched her teeth but then she sighed, slumping back into the chair a little. “I need to call my brother.”

James eyed her attentively while he carefully spread ointment on her knuckles and then even more carefully on her split lip. “You do that, he’ll come in here blazing, just like you.”

“He needs to come pick Eleanor up when she’s finished work.”

He considered that for a moment. “What about you?”

“Me? I’m good.”

“You just angered one of the nastiest pieces of shit we work with, Emily.”

“He’s welcome to a second round,” she sneered.

“You know he’s not going to show up alone, if he does. You can hold your own against him, or one of them, but not a bunch.”

She didn’t like that, he could see that, but it was still the truth.

“Someone will walk you to your car and you call me when you get home. No detours, pick Lu up, straight home. Check if you’re being followed.” He gave her a hard look and waited until she’d nodded to straighten up. “How’s the rest?” He gestured to her torso and legs.

“Gonna be a bit sore but nothing I’m not familiar with,” she told him with a shrug, resisting the urge to lick her bottom lip. It was throbbing and swollen, and she’d never wanted Lucia to see her like this. Fuck.

“Thought so,” was James only comment and she just glared at him. “Call your brother.”

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?” she asked, reaching for his desk phone. Luckily she had left her mobile in her desk upstairs, it wouldn’t have survived the altercation. But she knew Charles’ number by heart. “That he’s my brother.”

“You asked me not to,” he replied simply and she nodded.

Telling Charles what had gone down hadn’t been pretty, especially because Flint insisted being privy to the details as well. In the end that was a good thing though, he was the one able to keep Charles from marching out of there and getting locked up for homicide after tearing Low-life apart. That was still reserved for Lucia’s father.

Neither Eleanor nor Emily liked what the two men then mediated  the terms of how to keep them safe. Lucia wasn’t going to be the only one with a babysitter apparently…

After all was said and done there wasn’t much else they could do though. Eleanor had alerted security and precautions were being taken but if Low-life didn’t show his ugly mug again, they had nothing. If anything, Emily would receive the boomerang assault charges if they reported him for anything. There was a multitude of reasons why she was keen to avoid that.

Charles escorted Emily to pick up Lucia from the day nanny and the look on that woman’s face when she saw Emily’s split lip spoke for itself. Lucia herself was all too happy to see her mummy and uncle, happily babbling away as Emily drove home. Thomas was waiting by the parking lot when Emily got out and took Lucia, carrying the toddler up to their floor.

The reality of it caught up to Emily once Lucia was tucked up in bed. There were a million things to do around the flat, tiny as it was, but she just couldn’t bring herself to. She worried the tear in her lip with her tongue, hating the taste of blood it brought back but unable to stop either way.

Now, with a few hours distance, she knew clear as day that it had been a stupid, foolish thing to do. Low was taller and heavier than her, his aggression had been more than obvious and it could have ended very, very badly for her. Still could. She’d gotten off lucky again, once more, how long until her luck ran out in that regard too?

There was a soft knock on her door and then it opened, quietly closing behind the last person, after her brother, she wanted to see.

“If you’re here to give me another dressing down, fuck right off,” she growled at him but James didn’t take the bait.

He dropped the spare key she had given the Hamilton-McGraws for emergencies on her table and came over to drop into a seat next to her. Wordlessly.

Emily stared at him warily but he still didn’t say anything when he leaned back and got comfortable. Their shoulders were touching but that was it.

And then he just sat there. Still not saying anything.

Many long moments later Emily released the deepest breath and closed her eyes, tipping herself over against his shoulder. He moved his arm so it was around her shoulders and she was more comfortable against him.

“I didn’t want her to ever see me like this,” she whispered brokenly. “It took me so… long… to learn how to…” She shook her head. “It’s so hard to control it…”

“I know,” he said simply.

“I spent my entire teen years just… so, so… _angry_. Chaz and I, we…” She swallowed against the big lump that had been in her throat ever since she had seen the disappointment on Charles’ face when he’d seen her lip. “I took classes, I meditated, I trained, I… but it never goes away. It’s always right there, just under the surface. I tried so hard… I love her so much, you have to believe that. But it’s _so_ _hard_.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t want her to learn this from me, I don’t want her to have to make herself heard with her fists, with her anger. I don’t ever want to yell at her or… worse, but I… I don’t know how much more I can take! Some days I feel like a fucking zombie. I don’t know which way’s up most days and I don’t even know how to make a good home for her, I never had any! I’m not fit to be her mother.”

“Well, that’s just bullshit,” James stated disapprovingly. “Not the stuff about struggling with anger and rage, I know that shit’s hard. You’re more than fit to be her mother _because_ you struggle with it.”

“Come off it,” Emily scoffed but he stuck with it.

“No, I mean it. Maybe she’ll see you get angry, maybe she’ll hear you yell, maybe you’ll yell at her even, it happens. We’re all just humans trying to do our damn best, hopefully. Not counting Low-life, obviously.”

They both snorted at that.

“Maybe she’ll be angry, too, and that’ll be okay. Because she’ll learn from you that anger doesn’t have to be the end of it, that she doesn’t have to let it take over and consume her, that she can learn to control it and deal with it. And that makes you a better parent than many I’ve seen. No one expects you never to get angry or never to fuck up. You have, you will, that’s life. It’s how you deal with it that makes the difference.”

Emily was quiet for a while. Then she sighed deeply and nodded. “Thanks.”

“I know a thing or two about rage, Em. And I mean blazing, all consuming, destructive rage that doesn’t stop until it has torn everything and everyone around you down and turned you into ashes as well. It doesn’t bring anything but pain and death, both literally and figuratively. There was a time where I wanted that, to tear everything down, make the world burn until nothing was left.”

“What happened?” Even to her own ears she sounded so needy and so hopeful that she wanted to tell herself to cut it the fuck out, no one and nothing in the world could ever truly gain control of that blaze roaring in her.

“Love happened.”

Emily sat up and stared at him incredulously. “The fuck? You going romantic on me now?”

But James just looked at her calmly. “The root of rage is often pain and fear, Emily. I don’t know what the roots are for you but you do.”

She swallowed, and nodded. Pain and fear were dead on.

“Love isn’t the universal fix to everything, and neither can and should be the people who give it to you. But knowing you are loved, in any way and form you show up, enables you to poke and prod at those roots until you can hack ‘em off and grow new ones, be held by something else.”

“The fuck I’m gonna find someone like that, huh? You sure as fuck lucked out with your two,” she grumbled and James grinned, very pleased with himself.

“Didn’t I.”

“Fuck you. Greedy bastard.”

“Fuck yeah,” he chuckled, still well chuffed with it. “It doesn’t have to be love like that though, Em.”

“Are you telling me I need to call my brother again? Because first of all, fuck you again, and second, you heard him earlier.” She frowned deeply and made herself comfortable on his chest again. If he was offering a cuddle, she’d take a cuddle.

“I did. I thought his ‘I love you’ was pretty clear.”

“Whatever the fuck you’re on, I want some too,” Emily snorted. “He hasn’t said ‘I love you’ to me in years.”

“Maybe not in the exact words. But I can go get Thomas and he’ll list ways of saying ‘I love you’ without saying those words until next week. ‘I want you to be safe and I care about your well-being’ counts.”

Emily just sighed and closed her eyes again. “Can’t I just be your fourth?”

James laughed and squeezed at her shoulder. “Sorry, love.”

“Nobody wants me as their fourth. Not Jack, Anne and Max, not you, Miranda and Thomas. Ugh,” she pouted.

“Maybe that’s because you’re meant to be someone’s first.”

“Cut it out with the romantic shit or I’ll tell everyone at work tomorrow you’re just a sappy bastard that scowls at everyone because his lovers are at home and he’s not.”

James grunted. “What’s that gonna cost me?”

“Get better coffee for the office, the shit you buy sucks. Also, we’re gonna talk about my list of health and safety violations, Flint.”

“Knew you were gonna be a fucking pain in my arse.”

“Told you.”

“Little shit.”

Emily just smiled and patted around blindly until she found his other hand, putting it to her head.

“Head scratches too?” James tsk-ed at her.

“Please?” She turned her head and blinked up at him.

“Worse than Lu,” he grumbled under his breath but started scratching her scalp when she turned back.

x x x


End file.
